


Paralyzed By You

by Wolfcry22



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Crying, Dead Eddie Kaspbrak, Dead Pennywise (IT), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Mentioned Pennywise (IT), Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sad Richie Tozier, Scared Richie Tozier, Sleep, Sleep Paralysis, Soft Richie Tozier, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: After Eddie's death, Richie begins to experience sleep paralysis. He's unable to move and he sees Eddie's dead body in front of him ever single night. He tries to do everything that he can not to fall asleep, but when Beverly becomes worried for him and comes to stay with him, he can't hide it. Can Beverly help him through it or will Richie be unable to ever bring himself out of it?
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 11





	1. Keeping Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> I know it’s been a little while since I’ve written an IT fic and I suddenly got a burst of inspiration for this story. This story deals with themes of a condition called sleep paralysis. This is a condition where your mind is awake and your body can’t keep it. It’s a momentarily disconnect that just needs to be waited out. I’ve done research on this condition and I have experienced it a couple times. However, everyone can experience this differently and this is just one take on it. That being said, I hope you all enjoy!

Beverly laughed as she saw watched the latest Jumanji movie that she had found on Amazon Prime for her and Richie to watch. She glanced over to Richie to see if he was enjoying it as much as she was. However, she frowned when she saw Richie leaning against the couch with his head in his hands and his eyes already flickering closed tiredly. Ordinarily he would be making jokes and and being witty and annoying. Now he was barely conscious with his head slowly drifting down before snapping back up only to drop back down tiredly.

Beverly smiled gently as she reached over and shook Richie's shoulder. "Hey, Richie," she soothed as she nudged him.

Richie's head snapped up fully and he drew back in terror. Beverly lifted her hands to show Richie that she wasn't about to hurt him. "Easy, easy, it's just me," Beverly whispered.  
  
Richie blinked his eyes a few times before he nodded, gulping heavily. "Sorry. Just startled me," he confessed as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through his hair. He then shifted on the couch before looking up to the TV. "Did they get to the bazaar?"

"Um, yeah, about an hour ago," answered Beverly as she rubbed a hand against the back of her neck. She tried to look into Richie's gaze, but all she saw was exhaustion. She stole a quick glance at her watch to find that it was only about 9 o'clock. "Honey, I think hat you should go to bed. You're exhausted."

Richie shook his head as he rubbed a hand against the side of his face. "No, no! I'm alright. Just nodded off but I'm fine now," he explained as he tried to keep his eyes open.

Sympathy showed on Beverly's face as she grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. Richie's head whipped around in shock. "What did you do that for? I was watching that," he huffed.

Beverly rolled her eyes although a smile played on her lips. "You're exhausted and you need to get some sleep. We can finish it in the morning," she offered.

Richie set his jaw as his mind seemed to race. His breathing grew a little quick in apprehension as he met Beverly’s gaze again. "Is it alright i-if I sleep on the couch tonight," he stammered hopefully as his nails slightly dug into a decorative pillow beside him. 

Although Beverly knew that something was up, she wasn't quite sure what. She slowly stretched out her hand and rested it on Richie's knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Is everything okay? Do you feel sick," she asked. She knew that the living room was closer to the bathroom and she wondered if the hamburgers they had ordered for dinner hadn't been fully cooked. However she felt fine and they had eaten the same thing.

Richie shook his head adamantly. "I'm fine. I'd just be more comfortable on the couch is all," he replied stiffly. He looked down to his hands with his shoulders slightly lifted in clear discomfort.

Beverly's eyes slightly narrowed for a moment before she relaxed. Her hand stretched out and she rested it on Richie's shoulder. "You're sure?"

"Positive," Richie answered as he looked up and forced a tight smile. It was anything but convincing, however Beverly didn't want to press Richie. He was finally, sort of, opening up to Beverly about his feelings surrounding Eddie's death. The first few weeks Richie had hardly spoken at all, let alone spoke about Eddie. Now he was finally doing so while trying to fall into a regular routine. He had talked to Beverly about going back to work and had been working on some standup routines with his own jokes. Beverly had been thrilled, but she was just waiting for something else to happen since things seemed to be going almost too well.   
  
Beverly decided not to ask anything more. She leaned forward and kissed him comfortingly on the temple. "Alright. If you need anything, just holler."

While Richie appreciated the gesture, there would be no way that he would do that. Beverly was recovering from as much trauma as Richie was. He could sometimes hear her soft sobs from her room when nightmares plagued her sleep. She would never bring it up and Richie wasn't about to either. Richie just tried to cope with the loss of Eddie and all that had happened with the return to Derry, not to mention the memories and emotions flooding through him. It all seemed to be too much for Richie's subconscious and that was where he had run into a bit of a dilemma.

It hadn't happened every night, but most nights than not Richie would fall asleep and have a horrible dream that usually had something to do with Eddie's death or the Deadlights. If that wasn't bad enough, Richie would then find himself awake, but unable to move. The thoughts of his dream would still run through his mind while his limbs would be unable to even stir. He would then find himself looking around and seeing Eddie's dead body hovering an inch from his face. There was no way to open his mouth to scream and he would just stay there until his body finally released him from his sudden and terrifying episode. They were becoming more and more frequent as well as much harder to ignore. 

Richie had tried to sleep in different areas of the house and see if that would help. It did absolutely nothing, but the living room was the farthest from Beverly's room. Richie's worst nightmare now was that Beverly would find out about his nightmares and what came with it. Beverly had been so generous to allow Richie to stay in her small apartment that Richie didn't want to inconvenient her by waking her up, especially when she had work the next day. The best thing Richie felt he could do was try and stay awake so that the nightmares didn't come.

Unfortunately, running on nothing but coffee and memories could only keep someone up for so long. It was about 2 in the morning when Richie's eyes began to close and his breathing slowed as he fell asleep.

That was when the nightmares started. 

Richie saw Pennywise streaking in front of him, spinning Eddie in the air with one of his spears lodged so far through his stomach that Richie swore he could see straight through. Richie kept running, arms pumping and feet kicking against the ground until he tripped on an exposed pipe. He landed harshly on his hands and knees, a piece of glass slicing through the palm of his hand. Richie cradled his bloody hand to his chest in turn to turn and see Pennywise standing over him. A wicked grin showed on his face, blood dripping from his exposed teeth.

"Time to float, Richie," Pennywise giggled, mouth beginning to open to reveal the Deadlights. 

Suddenly, Richie opened his eyes and found himself awake. At least, his mind was awake, but his body was unable to move. It was as though his limbs felt heavy and couldn't move no matter how much Richie silently willed them to do so. No sound could leave his throat; his facial muscles didn't even move. The only part of Richie's body that could move was his eyes, darting and rolling to try and capture his bearings in the pitch black darkness engulfed around him.

A whimper rose inside of Richie when he saw Eddie's body hovering over him. Blood dripped down from the wound in his chest, leaving Eddie's eyes round and wide. A petrified look was frozen on his face, a perfect replica of how Eddie looked when Pennywise came out of nowhere and thrust that spear of his arm right through him. His shirt and pants were stained with blood and grime from the sewers, the smell of death and blood causing bile to rise in Richie's throat.

Just then, a light flickered on from the kitchen as Beverly tiptoed in. She went right for the fridge and opened it, bringing out a carton of milk and a chilled glass. She began to pour the milk in when she heard whimpering from the living room. She abandoned her milk to walk around the island and crept into the living room.

"Richie," she whispered in case he was asleep.

The sound of Beverly's voice lit a fire of determination inside of Richie. He let out more sounds from his throat from whimpers, to grunts, and even a few groans—anything that would signal to Beverly that he was awake and could hear her. He was just unable to move.

Beverly switched on the lamp beside the couch, illuminating the small living room space in pale yellow light. There she saw Richie laying on his back, right hand clutched against his chest. His body was rigid except for his eyes, which leaked tears and grew more wide by the moment. Beverly swore that Richie's lip may be trembling too, puffs of air forced strongly from his nose, sounds still coming from his throat.

"Richie," she gasped, reaching out to grab his left arm. She gave it a few tight squeezes before taking his hand in hers. She gripped it tight, horrified that Richie was unable to do the same back to her. "Richie."

Richie wanted to warn her about Eddie hovering above them, but he was unable to. All he could do was cry harder and continue to make the anguished sounds. A spark of relief pulsed through him when he realized that the sounds were becoming stronger. Hopefully it wouldn't be long until he could try and form some words to give her more of an indication to what was happening.

Beverly reached out her other hand and began to thumb his tears away. "It's okay. It's okay," she soothed, murmuring softly. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Richie, you need to relax for me, okay? I know that it's hard, but getting worked up isn't going to help."

'Easy for you to say,' Richie thought. 'You're not the one who can't fucking move!'

Richie knew that it wasn't Beverly's fault. She was doing everything in her power to help. She just didn't know what to do and neither did he. The best advice that Richie could take away from Beverly's ramblings was that they would have to wait it out. There was no other option.

So, the two stayed where they were. Beverly continued to whisper to him while squeezing his hand tightly for a few seconds and then releasing it, attempting to force some feeling back to it. Richie tried to keep his attention focused on Beverly's face instead of Eddie looming over him. That kept his heart rate lower so that he didn't work himself up. Beverly was right that panicking wasn't going to get them anywhere. 

After what felt like a lifetime, Richie's mouth formed some of the words that he had been trying to force out for the better part of an hour.

"E-Eddie!"

Beverly ran her fingers through Richie's matted hair, curling them against his scalp. "What, sweetie? What about him?"

Richie gave a bleary sniffle, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Eddie."

Beverly followed his eyes up to the ceiling. Her eyes narrowed in confusion when she turned back to Richie. "I don't see anything."

This time when Richie looked up, he couldn't see him either. All he could see was the crown molding and textured ceiling and the slow, gray fan moving in a circle in the corner of his vision. "H-H-He's gone," Richie choked out.

Sympathy shone on Beverly's face. She leaned over to kiss Richie on the top of the head. "Yeah, honey, he is. Did you have a nightmare about him."

Richie knew what Beverly was doing. Agitation rose inside of him for what she said and that he still couldn't move. "No! I saw him! He was here!"

Beverly jumped and Richie realized how loud he had been screaming at her. Shame washed over him as his eyes turned downward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...." He trailed off as more tears leaked from his eyes with Richie powerless to stop them.

"Oh, Richie." Beverly leaned over and wrapped Richie in a tight hug. Richie willed his arm to move, one finger at a time. A wave of relief pulsed through Richie when he could finally squeeze Beverly's hand back. 

Beverly began to pull away only for Richie to let out a low cry from the back of his throat. "Please stay," he croaked. "S'nice."

"Of course." Beverly kept herself wrapped around Richie, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. It was difficult for her to stay crushed on the tiny space that Richie's body wasn't taking up on the couch, but she managed. She began to hum sweetly, the sound soothing in Richie's ear.

Little by little, Richie's body began to move. First his arm nearly twitched out of Beverly grasp followed by his feet and legs. His torso was the last part of his body to break way from the invisible hand that had seemed to hold him down. 

Shaking, Richie lifted his hands to his face and breathed deeply. "Thank God!" His chest felt tight while his limbs tingled with anticipation. Richie couldn't decide whether he wanted to run a marathon or curl into a fetal position and never sleep again. It was a tossup at the moment.

Beverly had pulled herself away from the tight hold she had on Richie, but her fingers still ran up and down his arm gingerly. "What was that, Rich?"  
  
"I don't know," Richie confessed, pulling his hands down from his face. He gave a powerful sniff, well aware of how much of a mess he probably looked. "It happens every time that I close my eyes. I'm awake and I can't move and I see Eddie just suspended over me." Richie's gaze flickered down to his stomach, where he had seen the beads of blood drip from Eddie to him. There was nothing there. "And I can't get myself out of it."

Beverly's eyes rounded in worry. "This sounds pretty serious. Maybe you should see someone?"

Richie's eyes widened in panic. He drew away from Beverly, knees pulled to his chest. "No!"

"Okay," Beverly murmured softly. "Um, we don't have to do that, but we have to do something, sweetie. We can't have this happening every night. You have got to sleep sometime."

Although her voice was gentle, there was firmness there as well. She knew Richie's tendencies better than anyone, especially after Eddie's death. He would ignore what was happening until it ran him into the ground and left him totally incapacitated. That was what had happened when a simple cold had turned into pneumonia or when a sprained ankle had turned into a stress fracture. Richie may have been a workaholic before, but it was nothing compared to what he was on.

Richie was aware of these tendencies too, which was why he was staying with Beverly. Although, he was aware that he would eventually have to move back to his own apartment. He had heard Beverly's and Ben's conversations on the phone as well as read some of their more intimate texts. (Beverly had left her phone right on the counter unlocked where Richie had been able to glance over and look through them.) It wouldn't be long before one of them moved in with the other and Richie would be the third wheel. He didn't want to be the reason that they didn't have a conventional relationship because they were worried about him. He should be able to have been over this by now. It had been almost a year and he was still leaning on her like a crutch. He was sure that she was growing tired of it, because he certainly was. 

"Richie, you there," Beverly continued.

Richie blinked his eyes quickly. "Er, yeah. I-I'm here." He lifted his hand to rub it against his forehead, smearing the sweat into his hair. "I'm sorry that I made you stay up this late when you have work in the morning."

"It's no trouble. I've survived on much less sleep," Beverly pointed out. "Besides, you're my friend and I know that you would do the same for me."

Although Richie doubted that he would be as good at calming Beverly down as she was for him, but the sentiment would be the same. "You shouldn't have to do this for me. I'm a grown man for fuck sake!"

Beverly sighed. "We all need help sometimes, Rich. There's no shame in that." She rested her hand on Richie's shoulder comfortingly. "Do you think that you can go back to sleep?"

The last thing that Richie wanted to do was go back to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes his body went paralyzed and Eddie was in front of him. Why would this time be any different?

Richie didn't have to answer for Beverly to see the fearful glint his eye and clench of his jaw. "I have any idea," she whispered. She grabbed the blanket and brought it up and around not only Richie's shoulders, but hers as well so that they were both propped up against the couch. She pulled Richie over to her so that his head was rested on her shoulder and her arms draped around him so that he could feel her body heat against him.

There was a time when Richie couldn't stand to be touched by anyone, even platonically by Beverly, Ben, Mike, or Bill. He had come a long way and most of it was thanks to Beverly. She had been patient with him and gentle, and seen through most of his sarcastic comments that was just a shield to protect him from his true feelings. He was finally getting a place where he could ask for help. It wasn't easy, but it was doable.

It was there that Richie fell into a sound sleep rested against Beverly.


	2. Strong Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie finds out that he doesn’t have to be strong by himself anymore.

The next day passed by without any incidences. Richie had worked on his material while Beverly had gone to work. She had come back at around six with Chinese food for dinner. They had eaten in front of the TV like normal, watching an episode of Breaking Bad. They were working through the show since all the episodes were on Netflix. 

"Can you believe that guy just got crushed by an ATM machine," gasped Richie, smacking his thigh in surprise. "Damn that's got to be a horrible way to die!"

The atmosphere in the room immediately changed after Richie spoke. Beverly looked to him and paused the episode to look over to Richie. "Rich—"

"You know, I think that we can read between the lines here and figure out what's going to happen next. I have a theory! What if—"

"Richie!"

His name was spoken sternly, but still gently if that was even possible. Richie's head immediately turned to look shyly at Beverly, unable to fully meet her gaze. Richie's frightened eyes flickered between looking at the floor or looking up at Beverly's mouth. 

"Richie, we need to talk," Beverly began as she reached out a hand to grip Richie's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Richie drew back, despite himself. "There's nothing to talk about," he mumbled harshly. "Let's just keep watching the show."

Beverly frowned, her brows knit together in concern. "I think that there's a lot to talk about. I've been patient with you and given you space as you've requested it, but we can't tiptoe around this issue anymore. It's starting to take a toll on you and the only way around it is to deal with it."

"I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience to you," growled Richie smartly.

Beverly was used to Richie's smug tone of defensiveness that he so often put up when something was bothering him. She knew the best way to deal with it and not to take anything Richie said personally. "Rich, you're not an inconvenience in anyway, shape, or form. However, I can't bear to see you like this. I need to make sure that you're okay and not dealing with this isn't the way to do it. Do you think that you could at least try, for me?"

Richie scowled as he finally lifted his gaze. When he did he found only love and understanding in Beverly's gentle gaze. There was no malice or frustration. That eased Richie's tough guy facade ever so slightly, cracking the foundation to make Richie more tolerant to what Beverly was saying.

"What do you want to talk about," Richie asked calmly.

Beverly reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cellphone. "I was looking up your symptoms of what happened last night and I think that it's called sleep paralysis. It's a condition where your mind wakes up before your body and that's why you can't move. It also has been known to cause those affected to see things like aliens or other dark figures suspended above them. It's an actual disorder."

"Great, add fucked up sleeper to my repertoire. Book the comedian and stay for the amazing show while he sleeps. Sounds like hours of fun to me!" Richie's voice was dry until he looked over to Beverly and saw the hurt in her eyes. She was only trying to help and Richie had nearly bitten her head off for trying. "Sorry."

Beverly smiled timidly. "Millions of people are effected by this at least one time in their lives. It's not just you."

"Then why is it happening now when I've never experienced it a day in my life?"

"Stress is a contributing factor and I'd say what you've been through is more than a little stressful."

"You went through the same thing that I did. Why aren't you having the same problems I am?"

"We all react to trauma in different ways. Besides, I didn't loose someone I was falling for."

Heat rushed into Richie's face as he looked away from Beverly. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

Beverly smiled reassuringly, realizing that she was treading on dangerous ground and not wanting to say anything that would spook or offend Richie. "You may have been able to hide it from everyone, and maybe even yourself, but you can't hide it from me. You loved Eddie, didn't you."

"Sure, as a friend. Just like I love any one of you." Richie wrapped his arms around himself and shook ever so slightly. "S'nothing more."

Beverly could sense that Richie was beginning to shut down. Although she wanted to say much, much more, she knew that pressing Richie when he wasn't ready wasn't something that should be taken lightly. Besides, she could see that Richie was growing tired even if he didn't want to admit it. "Okay, we don't have to talk about this now. How about we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Fine." Richie would say anything to get Beverly to leave him alone. He gave a low snort of frustration as he began to shift on the couch. Truthfully the last thing that Richie wanted to do was even think about sleeping, but he couldn't ignore the exhaustion with which had settled upon him. His head had just started to loll to the side when he realized that the presence of Beverly wasn't leaving him. His eyes flashed open as he glanced at her.

She gave him a gentle wave. "It's alright. I'm just going to lay here for a bit if that's okay to make sure you're alright?"

Richie was too tired to argue. He let out a low and echoing mumble before resting his head on the armrest with his body slumped sideways. His nose twitched as he settled for a fitful rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beverly hadn't mean to, but she had ended up falling asleep beside Richie. She woke up a couple hours later to find Richie on his side with his head inclined on the armrest at the end of the couch. His eyes were wide and unblinking, yet tears still managed to flow from them. Frantic whimpers left his body as his nostrils flared. Beverly could tell that Richie was attempting everything in his power to move or rouse himself in some way.

“Richie? Richie.” Beverly clustered over and rested a hand on his shoulder, trailing it down his arm with the gentlest of touches. She had read about this earlier and knew that she had to be gentle in an effort to pull him out. “Richie, I need you to calm down your breathing, okay? I’m right here and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Despite Beverly’s reassurances, Richie continued to cry soundlessly. However, Beverly noticed that his top lip was quivering ever so slightly. That was something that Beverly could work with.

“Richie, I need you to listen to the sound of my voice, alright?” Beverly took in a deep breath in an attempt to prompt Richie to do the same. “It’s okay. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. Just breathe.”

Although Richie couldn’t verbally answer, Beverly was pleased to see that Richie tried to take in deeper breaths instead of the shallow ones that had his chest rising and falling rapidly. It was a start.

“Good, good.” Beverly continued to run her fingers over Richie’s arm. She applied pressure but not enough to make it painful. “Now, I want you to concentrate on just moving your toes. That’s it.”

Beverly could almost guess that if Richie could’ve moved he would’ve rolled his eyes. He wasn’t the best at following instructions, especially when he thought that they were useless. Beverly was used to this deflecting behavior from Richie. However, she was hoping that he would at least try and take her advice on this.

Just when Beverly was going to try something else, she noticed Richie’s right foot give a gentle twitch. It was so small that the average person would’ve missed it, yet Beverly was esthetic. Richie was somewhere in there and just needed help to bring himself out of it. 

“Great job, Rich,” Beverly praised in a soothing and light voice. She knew she had to keep herself as calm, yet upbeat as possible so not to cause Richie to panic. She began to run her hand down his leg and gave his calf a gentle squeeze. “Okay, now let’s try the other foot. Give it a twitch as well. Start with the toes and make it to your heel.”

Beverly could practically guess that Richie was rolling his eyes at her. Luckily, Beverly didn’t take it personally. “I know that you can do it. Take that stubbornness you put into your comments and force it into your foot. You can do it.”

After a couple more tense moments, Richie’s heel pushed back lightly into the couch. It was hardly anything, but for Beverly it was everything.

She reached over and thumbed the tears off of Richie’s cheeks. “Okay, okay. We’re doing so much better here. Let’s try moving up even more. Think you can try the opposite leg too?”

Richie did as Beverly instructed and moved his foot just an inch.

A smile showed on Beverly’s face. “There we go. There we go.” She grasped his limp hand in her own and began to massage from the palm up to the tips of Richie’s fingers. “Let’s just jump up to your hand. Squeeze back for me,” Beverly coaxed, giving Richie’s hand another squeeze, causing Richie to almost wince.

It took another couple moments for Beverly to feel the splayed fingers curl around hers. Richie let out a deep breath and his neck began to twist as his face crumpled into a grimace. It was one of the best sights that Beverly had ever seen because it signaled that he was finally coming out of his sleep paralysis state.

They waited a couple minutes longer until Richie was able to speak and—with the help of Beverly—was able to sit up and move his hands and feet without much trouble. The rest of his body was still struggling to use the signals that Richie’s brain was giving them to move, but Beverly was sure it would only take time. Richie just needed to be patient.

“You alright,” Beverly questioned after a couple moments of silence with the only sound being the air conditioner in the corner of the room.

Richie’s face fell to his lap. He didn’t speak right away and Beverly wondered if Richie had actually heard her. She didn’t want to press and decided to give Richie the time and space to respond.

“It won’t stop,” Richie choked out darkly. “It never fucking stops.”

Beverly instinctively leaned forward as Richie lifted a hand to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs that welled inside of him.

“Richie, Richie, sweetie.” Beverly wrapped her arm around Richie’s shoulders. She could feel Richie stiffen before relaxing into her embrace. “Okay, okay, it’s okay. Let it out. It’s alright.” Her voice was soft against Richie’s ear while her hand snaked up to his back to massage the tight knots that were right under the skin.

Richie continued to cry and eventually turned toward Beverly and buried his head into her shoulder. Beverly stayed still out of fear that she may spook Richie away. He sobbed against her, shaking Beverly with each gasp and whimper. All Beverly could do was offer soft assurances and gentle murmurs while Richie released all the pent up emotion he had stuffed down since Eddie’s death.

It was almost twenty minutes later when Richie grew limp against Beverly. He began to pull away and propped back against the armrest, coughing lightly against his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Richie blubbered with a watery sniffle.

Beverly reached around to the coffee table and grabbed a box of tissues. She set them beside Richie and looked away to give him some privacy to blow his nose and mop up the tears from his eyes. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Beverly told him tenderly.

“I thought I could fight this.” Richie gave one more fierce rub against the side of his nose with a bundle of tissues. “I thought I was strong enough to fight it.”

Beverly took Richie’s hand in her own and gave it a a tight squeeze. “You don’t have to be strong by yourself anymore.”


	3. Letting It Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie finds that there is one person that he can still count on.

At the mention of Beverly’s words, Richie raised his head and gave Beverly a timid glance. “But this isn’t your shit.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to do everything in my power to help you, Rich.” Beverly brushed her thumb over Richie’s knuckles. “I’m your friend and that’s what friends do.”

Another sob threatened to rise inside of Richie. He hadn’t had any true friends since he left Derry, and even then he had forgotten his best friends. Upon his return it had brought so many memories of pain and shame rushing back that he didn’t care to remember. Despite this, Richie was able to remember the good times too and he had hope for the first time in a longtime that he would be able to make a new life for himself with Eddie. His excitement for the future had been cut abruptly short after Eddie’s death. He knew that he had the other Losers Club members to lean on, but it was Eddie that he really wanted. He didn’t want to make anyone else feel bad by always bringing up the loss of Eddie; it just happened that way.

“Richie?”

Richie snapped his head up. He hadn’t realized that Beverly had spoken to him and he smiled shyly. “Er, sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Rich. I just wanted to know if you want to talk about it,” she offered. Although she had asked the same of Richie the day before and he had adamantly refused as well as earlier that night, she had a feeling that he may just agree to it this time. “It might help.”

Richie blinked moisture from his eyes. “I-I just can’t stop w-with the nightmares.” Richie gave a violent shudder just at the mere memory of it. “And then it started with seeing Eddie above me, floating and with blood dripping from his fucking mouth. It always happens and I don’t know why!”

Beverly had done research on what had happened to Richie rather quickly so that she could grasp what was happening to him. The information had been a little sparse at times and there seemed to be a lot of chatter without a lot of medical basis, but after defeating an ancient entity like IT, she was more inclined to believe some of the extraordinary things people were saying on the internet.

“Honey, I think you’re suffering from something called sleep paralysis like I said before.”

Immediately Richie’s eyes widened so that the white’s shone more than his pupils. 

“Oh, Richie, it’s not harmful. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s not deadly. It’s just that your mind wakes up before your body does. They’re not quite sure why it happens to some people and not others, but they do say it could be triggered by stress.” Beverly inched her hand forward to grab Richie’s, squeezing it lightly. “It sucks, there’s no doubt about that, and there’s not much you can do besides letting it pass.”

Richie glanced down, body hunched and small. “Why d-do I see him,” he croaked.

Beverly took in a deep breath with her chest expanding. “That I don’t know. But, other people that suffer from the same thing say that it’s not too uncommon. Your mind must take you back to that place and that’s why you see Eddie.” Beverly paused to ponder her words carefully. “Maybe if you talked about it the nightmares would ease and so would the paralysis. Do you think you can try?”

Richie lifted a hand and rubbed the side against his cheeks to dry the tears that fell. “I......I don’t know,” he sniffled.

“Then we can take it as slow as you want to.” Beverly offered a kind smile that would always warm Richie from the top of his head all the way to his toes. Beverly understood him and was there for him. If Richie couldn’t talk to Beverly, who else could he turn to?

It was Richie’s turn to take in a deep breath to calm himself even further. The tips of his fingers were still tingling while numbness had spread through his heels up to his calf. His mind felt disconnected from his body as though his consciousness was floating somewhere that Richie just couldn’t grasp. It was as though breaching the subject of Eddie made Richie’s mind go into survival mode, attempting to protect Richie from his own damaging thoughts.

“Richie,” Beverly prompted. She had watched the alertness in his eyes disappear and give way to a vacant stare. She allowed him to ponder there for a while before attempting to bring him back.

Richie blinked his eyes to pull himself out of his haze. “I never got to spend much time with him. I completely forgot about him until I came back to Derry and then he fucking left me!”

Beverly dipped her head in understanding, still squeezing and releasing Richie’s hand to remind him that she was there for him. “We all forgot about each other. That was the power of Pennywise, but we found each other and you got to spend a little time with Eddie. I know that you cared for him and he knew that too. He loved you, Richie.”

Richie’s face crumpled. “A-And I......” Richie trailed off only to give his head a much needed shake to pull his strength. “And I loved him to.”

The declaration was felt around the small living room. It bounced off the walls and came back to Richie, seeping into his muscles and giving him strength. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as a new tone filled the room.

“I’m so sorry about what happened.” Beverly adjusted herself on the couch so that she was snuggled close to Richie. “But, you know that it’s not your fault, right?”

Richie gave a timid nod. “It still hurts.”

“Yes, it may always hurt,” Beverly sympathized. “However, you have me and the rest of the gang to help you out. Talk to us. We’re here for you, but we can’t help if you don’t talk to us. I would’ve never known what you were going through if you didn’t tell me.”

Richie bowed his head in understanding. He did keep a lot of things to himself, at least serious stuff. Talking to Beverly was a huge step for him in being vulnerable and not deflecting everything with sarcasm or jokes. Perhaps he should try to do this more often.

“Thanks, Bev,” Richie whispered.

“Would you like to try to get back to sleep,” Beverly offered when she saw Richie’s head instinctively dropping down only to snap back up when he realized he was drifting off.

Richie winched. “Sleep?”

Beverly tapped her foot against the ground in rhythm with her heartbeat. “Would it be easier if I stay here at least until you fall asleep? That way I can help pull you out of anything that you see?”

Richie faced her with liquid pools of concern in the center of his face. “You would do that?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” Beverly’s voice was quiet, concerned, and gentle when she regarded Richie.

Richie gave her hand a heavy squeeze. “In a second.”

“Then that answers your questions, huh?” Beverly started to scoot over on the couch and arched her back in a stretch. “Alright, move over and give me some more room, you oaf!”

Richie gave Beverly a shove before shifting so that both of them could squeeze together on the couch. They shared the blanket between them, absorbing each other’s body heat. It chased away Richie’s numbness and left him and was replaced with a feeling of peace that washed over him like an ocean wave. Beverly’s heartbeat was able to give something to focus on that he could feel. His head shifted so that it was rested on her shoulder while Beverly took the pillow, legs threatening to spill over from the edge. Her eyes began to drift shut and her breathing slowed. 

Richie thought about fighting the sleep that tugged at his limbs. However, it only took a moment more for him to drift off with Beverly’s comforting presence there to chase away any fear he felt. She would always be there for him and he would be the same for her. Richie may have lost Eddie, but he was far from loosing everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that read this story. I hope that you all enjoyed and are staying safe and healthy!

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore Beverly’s and Richie relationship more in this story since I really think that Richie cares deeply for Beverly and vise verse. I thought that it was always so wholesome the way that she tried to look after Richie and I wanted to inject that idea in this story. I hope you guys enjoy it so far and are staying safe and healthy!


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